


3:09 PM

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dad!Kane, F/M, Family Feels, Kid!Clarke - Freeform, Why Did I Write This?, pure angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 18:24:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7694725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a Monday.</p>
<p>It was just past noon, and Marcus Kane had been standing in that street for over thirty minutes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	3:09 PM

**Author's Note:**

> Before you start reading this fanfic, please remember:  
> 1\. I don't hate Jake, but let's just pretend that he doesn't exist in this universe.  
> 2\. Marcus is Clarke's biological father. 
> 
> Thank you :)

It was a Monday.  
  
It was just past noon, and Marcus Kane had been standing in _that_ street for over thirty minutes.

 

***

  
It was six months to the very day. Six months since he'd woken up beside her, a protective arm around her waist. Six months since he'd brushed his lips against her shoulder, counting her breaths until she finally stirred. Six months since he'd brushed his lips against hers, murmuring an I love you.   
  
He'd dropped Clarke off at school that morning, then worked immediately after, passing noon. Marcus wasn't worried, though. It was Abby's turn to pick Clarke up. He picked her up on Tuesdays and Fridays. It was a Monday. A rainy Monday.   
  
But something happened. Abby received a phone call from the school, informing her that Clarke had broken her arm. It wasn't that serious. A normal, six-year old kid injury. She'd be at the hospital shortly. She decided not to tell Marcus. It wasn't serious, she'd been told. It could wait. But it didn't make her worry any less.   
  
The details were muddled, considering Marcus had gotten them from multiple sources, but the clearest parts of the account had come from Clarke.  
  
She was seated on a bed while a doctor tended to her arm. Her teacher, Miss Marie, had taken her directly to the emergency room, distracting her enough to prevent her from crying. Clarke didn't seem at all bothered, in fact she boasted about her father's numerous mishaps, saying that it was in her blood. The doctor took his time explaining what a cast was, and Clarke was excited, looking forward to having all her classmates and friends write their names on it.   
  
Until she looked up.   
  
The emergency room doors swung open, and two men entered, each carrying women, bloodied and unconscious. They were pedestrians who'd witnessed a car crash down the road, and they managed to get the drivers out of the wreckage.   
  
Police reports would later file that one car was driving fast, rushing down the road towards the hospital, while the other, coming from the intersection, had tried to beat the red light. With the slippery roads and rainy weather, the collision was inevitable.   
  
Clarke's eyes widened then. She looked at Miss Marie, and even managed to raise her broken arm to point at one of the women.  
  
"That's my mommy." She'd whispered.

 

***

  
Her time of death was called at 3:09 in the afternoon, that very Monday.   
  
Marcus didn't know it at the time this had happened. He didn't know until 30 minutes later. But at 3:09 PM, something in him, half of him, it seemed, died along with her.

 

***

 

It was a Monday. A rainy Monday. 2:34 PM. Clarke had rushed out of the school doors as soon as they were dismissed. It was different, now. Daddy picked her up every day.

"Daddy!" She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, then smacked a kiss on his cheek.  
  
"How's my little princess?" Marcus asked, giving her a small smile as she got settled in the car, immediately putting her seatbelt on.   
  
"Today was real fun, daddy. I've got something to show you," she replied.  
  
"Alright," he said. "What did you do in school today?"   
  
She opened her Frozen backpack and pulled out a piece of paper. "I made a picture of our house. And then I drew us. You, mommy and me," said Clarke, showing Marcus her drawing. "is it pretty?"   
  
For a few moments, the only sound they could hear was that of the rain pitter-pattering on the windshield, and the wipers that brushed them away; back and forth, back and forth. Marcus bit his lip hard. He wasn't going to cry. Not in front of Clarke.   
  
"Now daddy has something new to post on the fridge," he managed to say, pressing his lips to her forehead. "They're beautiful, Clarke. You're getting really good at drawing."  
  
"Just like mommy," she proudly replied, putting her precious paper away before Marcus began driving. "I'm sorry daddy, but you can't draw that good."  
  
Managing a laugh, Marcus sighed, noting his daughter's remark. She was like her mommy more than she realized. 

 

***

  
"Clarke's turning six this year. You know that... of course. But I still tell you every time I visit." Marcus chuckled, though its sound was empty. "Speaking of Clarke, our little princess has gotten really good in drawing, sweetheart. And her writing and composition has gotten better, too. You infected her with your creative bug."   
  
He brushed his fingers over the letters etched in granite before him.  
  
"Daddy?" Clarke whispered. She was hesitant, knowing that he was busy, but he turned to her, giving her his full attention. "You're getting wet."  
  
Smiling, he pulled her onto his lap, putting his arms around her and pressing his lips to Clarke's cheek. "You want to talk to mommy, now?"  
  
She nodded, biting her lip in nervousness. Though it wasn't the first time she'd done this, it always felt like it was.

"Hi, mommy," Clarke began, whispering. "I miss you so much, I hope you are happy there," She paused, then spoke again, her voice gaining confidence and volume, wanting to be heard over the sound of the rain. "I drew something at school but I can’t show you because it’s raining.”  
  
"It’s beautiful,” said Marcus proudly. “Clarke's reading and spelling's gotten better, too."  
  
"Yes it has! I can show you that, mommy," she remarked, standing proudly. Her forehead crinkled, as though she were deep in thought, and then she began reading the words she found on the headstone. "Abigail Zoe Kane. Seventeen May, one nine seven six. Eight February, two zero one six,” Pausing, she read again, wiping away raindrops that hindered her view. “Wife, mother, and be...be-loved friend to many."  
  
Marcus's expression turned wistful as he ran a hand through his now-wet hair. Returning to her comfortable spot on her dad's lap, Clarke waited for his reaction to her reading, smiling brightly when she received kiss to the top of her head and a remark of, "Excellent job, Clarke."   
  
No day passed without Marcus thinking of all the what ifs and if onlys his mind could conjure up. But he knew that none of this would be able to bring Abby back. No amount of questions would. So he tried not to think of it long, instead focusing on the here and the now, meaning Clarke.   
  
He worked from home now, co-owning an engineering company with Sinclair. One of the guest bedrooms was transformed into his office. And he never worked for more than two hours straight. His priority was his daughter, helping her with homework, sitting down to watch television with her, and teaching her how to make the perfect banana pancake. He was dad and mom, now. And though some of his colleagues had mentioned that Clarke would need a female figure close by, Marcus decidedly replied that her grandma, Vera, and her aunt, Raven, were more than sufficient. No one would ever fill the void that Abby left.   
  
When Clarke shivered slightly in Marcus's arms, he knew it was time to leave. He could have very well stayed longer, but Clarke was with him today, because it was a Monday.   
  
"Alright, we have to go." he said. Marcus refused to ever tell her to say goodbye, knowing full well that he never did, either.   
  
Clarke waved, standing and allowing Marcus to do the same. "I've got math homework, mommy. But I'll be back next week. Promise. I love you."  
  
After she took a few steps back, Marcus knelt before the headstone, closing his eyes as he felt the cold, wet earth seep into his pants, touching his skin. More moments passed, and he finally brushed his lips against his fingers then touched them to Abby's inscribed name.   
  
"I love you Abby," he whispered, praying hard that she could hear him, somehow. "See you tomorrow."

**Author's Note:**

> THAT'S IT. WHAT DID I DO? AM I TURNING INTO JASON NOW? 
> 
> Thanks to Eliza because she said "Kane is actually my dad" and "I want to call him daddy", I got the idea of this fanfic.  
> And thank you for reading! Any feedback would be very much appreciated :)
> 
> p.s: I still have another angsty fic, should I post it?


End file.
